


Drawn In

by Zephyrfox



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Q, Don't copy to another site, Double O's can be dangerous, F/M, Gen, Girls just wanna have fun, M/M, Multi, Partying at a club, Protective Alec Trevelyan, Protective James Bond, and be safe, attempt is foiled, attempted date rape, outsider's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-01-22 11:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21301598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: A young woman meets some interesting people when she's in London on vacation, and finds herself grateful they decided to interfere in her life. But after that, she runs into one or the other of the three, again and again. Somehow she knows: eventually, she's going to end up drawn into their world.
Relationships: James Bond/Q, James Bond/Q/Alec Trevelyan, Q/Alec Trevelyan
Comments: 30
Kudos: 125





	1. Outside View

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Dart for betaing and brainstorming!

Mel Godwin wove her way around the edges of the club’s dance floor, avoiding a particularly enthusiastic pair of dancers in her way. She loved this. The heat, the noise, the people — if only her friends back in high school could see her now! They’d never believe it of her, or the tight yellow dress she had daringly worn, with its gold threads shimmering in the strobing, multicolored lights. She’d even carefully restyled her hair, although it had hardly needed it. She hadn’t believed it when the handsome man she met at the hotel asked her out. Even though she had never gone to a club without her friends before, she hadn’t hesitated to say yes to Paul. After all, she was on vacation! A graduation present for herself after finishing her MBA.  _ Carpe diem,  _ as her friend Kris would say.

Fortunately, she’d made a friend in the line to get in.  _ Queue,  _ Bev had called it instead. Such a funny word! But at least they’d agreed to watch each other’s drinks. Bev was there with a new guy as well. Jack.

The music changed, and one of her favorite songs began to play, its heavy beat pounding through her chest. She laughed and danced a few steps in sheer exuberance, then stumbled on her too-high heels when someone bumped into her on their way to the dance floor.

“Ooops, sorry!” A woman’s voice yelled near her ear.

Mel turned to see a woman in a very nicely fitting red dress grinning apologetically at her. She met the woman’s lovely brown eyes, and one winked cheekily at her. To her disappointment, though, the woman was there with a man, who she was leading to the dance floor. Although, to be fair, Mel was there with a man herself. She watched the woman dance, indulging herself for a moment. Natural hair, skin as dark as Mel’s, and so very graceful as she moved on the dance floor. She’d probably be just as graceful in the bedroom… 

_ Mmm, very nice,  _ Mel purred to herself. Then, humming happily, she turned back to head to her table, hips swaying. Her date must be wondering where she was by now. 

Large hands suddenly grasped Mel’s hips as a low voice growled in her ear. “Wanna dance, sweetheart?”

Mel whirled, startled, but then relaxed as she recognized Jack. “Don’t you want to dance with Bev?”

“She’s sitting this one out. Hurt her ankle last dance.”

While she was in the bathroom, Mel thought guiltily. She hesitated, biting her lip. Should she check on Bev? 

“C’mon, it’s just a dance.” Jack grinned, catching her hand.

“Oh, all right.” Laughing, Mel let herself be pulled along onto the dance floor. 

Jack found them an open spot on the floor, which turned out to be near the woman in the red dress. Mel made sure to angle herself as she danced to keep the woman in sight — no harm in looking, after all — until Jack grabbed her for a spin. Maybe he’d noticed he didn’t have her full attention.

Another couple moved past them, dancing close. Mel did a double take — she could have sworn she’d seen the two men, both nicely built blonds, earlier in the evening, but not with each other. She’d seen each of them dancing with a different man, a wild-haired brunet. Maybe they were all here together? 

Then Jack spun her again, and Mel gave up people watching and concentrated on enjoying the dance. When the song ended, she and Jack were laughing as they headed back to the table. They didn’t have too far to go; they had lucked into a large booth near the dance floor. Mel craned her neck to get a look at Bev through the crowd leaving the dance floor, to see how she was.

Bev didn’t look to be in any distress. She was chatting animatedly with another woman at their table. Mel decided right then she didn’t need to feel guilty about abandoning her new friend. She caught sight of Paul before he noticed her. He was glaring at his watch, clearly annoyed.  _ Oops.  _ But by the time she got to the table, Paul’s expression was so open and welcoming that she thought she must have been mistaken.

“Darling, you’re back!” Paul half-stood to press a kiss to her cheek, then he mock-glared at Jack. “Did you have fun dancing?”

“I sure did,” Jack said with an irrepressible grin. He nudged Bev’s friend. “Budge up a bit, let me in.”

“So did I,” Mel said as she sat down. Across the table, Bev and her friend were shifting to allow Jack to sit as well. “How are you doing, Bev? Jack said you hurt yourself?”

“Oh, I’m fine! Just wrenched my ankle a bit.” Bev smiled at her, then nodded her head towards the woman next to her. “This is my friend, Dalia.”

“Hiya,” Dalia said, wiggling her fingers in a little wave.

Mel smiled at her. “Hi, nice to meet you!” 

Paul slung his arm around Mel’s shoulders. “Melanie here is visiting from New York.”

“Melody,” Mel said with an internal sigh. Why did people always get her name wrong? “Not Melanie.”

Paul ignored the correction. “It’s Melanie’s last night here. I’m trying to make it a memorable one, right sweetheart?”

Mel rolled her eyes at him and reached for her glass. He might be handsome, but he didn’t pay attention to anyone but himself.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a strange male voice said as a restraining hand appeared on her arm.

Mel looked up to see the brunet that had been dancing earlier with each of the two blonds. The lights reflected off his black-framed glasses, hiding his eyes and giving him a somewhat sinister air. 

“Don’t mind him,” Paul said in her ear. “Go ahead and drink if you want. As for you,” Paul glared at the man. “Shove off.”

“Oh, I won’t be doing that,” the strange man said. “Melody, was it? He put something in your drink.”

“What?” Mel let go of the glass, staring at it horrified. Then she looked up. “Paul? Bev?” She’d trusted the other woman to watch her drink for her.

Bev’s hazel eyes widened, managing to look shocked and contrite. “I didn’t see anything, but… I did look away for a bit when I was talking to Dalia.”

Dalia just shrugged. Apparently she hadn’t seen anything either.  _ Who to believe?  _ Mel looked at the faces around her, tempted to bite her lip.

“That’s because there was nothing to see,” Paul said, with almost over-exaggerated patience. “Drink up, Melanie.”

“Melody,” Mel corrected automatically, leaning away from Paul’s encircling arm. He tightened it and she froze, her eyes flying to the stranger’s face. 

He studied Paul. “Let her go,” he said evenly.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Paul sneered. “Melanie is perfectly happy with me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

This time, anger blazed through her. “It’s  _ Melody,”  _ she said tightly, and pulled herself free and out of the booth — only to stop short just as she cleared the end of the bench seat. The stranger’s two friends had shown up behind him, radiating an air of menace that terrified her.

The stranger turned his head towards them with an unimpressed expression and — oddly — said, “Stand down. I have this under control.”

One of them, his arctic blue eyes freezing Mel to her soul, stared past her at Paul, while the other, jade green eyes barely a degree warmer, touched his companion’s elbow. They faded back a few steps, and Mel found she could breathe again. Who  _ were  _ they? 

She glanced around, becoming uneasily aware that other club goers around them were starting to pay attention to their little drama. She was sure they were whispering about what was going on. Jack was looking from her to Paul and back, then to the stranger.

“Melody, my name is…” the stranger paused for a moment.  _ Why?  _ Then he continued, “Call me Andrew.”

She nodded, still a bit confused by all this. All she had wanted was a fun night out…

Then Paul was there, pushing his way out of the booth, past her to confront Andrew. He barely looked at the other two men, and Mel had no idea how he could ignore them. “I don’t care who you are, stay out of my business and leave the lady alone.” He tried to grab her hand. “C’mon, Melanie.”

She jerked her hand out of his reach. “No!”

There was a bit of commotion to her left as another stranger worked his way through the crowd towards their confrontation. His eyes swept over them before settling on Andrew. “I’m the manager. Is there a problem here?”

“Ah, good. I’m glad you’re here,” Andrew said. “I’ve phoned the police. This man put something in this lady’s drink.”

The manager stiffened, turning to Paul. “Is that true?”

“That’s bull.” Paul sneered at everyone looking at him, then aimed a belligerent glare at Andrew. “I didn’t put anything in anyone’s drink.”

“All right, then,” Jack’s voice cut through everything. “Prove it.”

Paul’s manner changed abruptly, becoming uncertain as his eyes darted around.

“He’s right. If there’s nothing in there,” Mel said, raising her chin in challenge, “why don’t you drink it?”

“Me?” Paul’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s a girlie drink! I can’t drink that!”

“Why, cause your fragile male ego can’t handle being seen drinking something girlie?” Mel rolled her eyes.

Paul snarled, glaring daggers at her, all his earlier uncertainty gone.

“I’ll drink it,” Jack offered. “I don’t have a problem with ‘girlie drinks’. They’ve actually got more alcohol in then than your beer. Besides, if whatever you put in there affects me, I’ll sue your arse.” He slowly raised the glass, eyes locked on Paul’s.

Paul’s eyes darted from the glass to Jack. The rim of the glass was almost at Jack’s lip when Paul blanched and raised his hand in a warning gesture. “Wait, don’t drink it.”

The manager eyed him suspiciously, demanding, “And why shouldn’t he?”

Paul just scowled and said nothing.

“As I said earlier,” Andrew said cooly, “The police are on their way. They should be here…” He looked at his watch. “About now, really.”

Mel’s eyes fell on Andrew’s two… friends, leaning against the next booth, as she turned towards the club entrance along with everyone else. The two men still exuded an air of menace while watching Paul, but now it was tempered somewhat. They reminded Mel of a pair of lions, lazing next to their kill.

A pair of uniformed officers made a path through the crowd, allowing a distinguished-looking gray haired man in plain clothes through. Mel was surprised to see that he was followed by several other plain-clothes officers. She would have expected maybe one or two policemen, not a whole squad!

The man flashed a wallet holding his credentials. “Detective Inspector Lestrade.” His steely gaze swept over the group, pausing, eyes narrowing, at Andrew’s two friends, who smiled lazily back, then on to Andrew — where he stopped. “And you are, sir?”

The response was a deprecating shrug with a wry twist of his lips. “Andrew.”

Detective Lestrade nearly pounced on the one word. “Holmes?”

Andrew’s brows went up fractionally, but his smile slid towards amusement and he shook his head. “Not exactly. But I suppose I must admit to a connection, however… distant.”

“Hmmm.” Lestrade eyed him suspiciously, but ultimately seemed to let it go. “All right. Who can tell me what’s going on here?”

Well. She was the… victim, and oh, how she hated that word! She needed to speak up, didn’t she? Mel asked tentatively, “Detective?” When Lestrade frowned, she tried again. “Uhm, inspector?”

Fortunately, Lestrade took pity on her obvious Americanness. “Detective Inspector.”

“Thank you. Detective Inspector, this man” — she nodded towards Andrew — “saw my date put something in my drink without my knowledge or consent.” 

“Now just one second. I didn’t put anything anywhere. They’re slandering me,” Paul broke in.

“Then why did you stop me from drinking Mel’s drink?” Jack asked, challenge ringing through his voice.

“You touched the glass, sir?” Lestrade asked, transferring his frown to Jack.

Jack blinked, as if realizing something unpleasant. “Oh, shit. Yes I did. You’ll need my fingerprints.”

But Paul was looking triumphant now. “You see? It was him all along!”

Lestrade looked at him, considering, for long enough that Paul looked like he was starting to sweat. “Perhaps. We’ll need your prints, too, sir. And a statement from you both, and the young lady.” He swung around to Andrew. “And from you, too, Mr….  _ Holmes.” _

Andrew held up a hand when his boyfriends stirred, shifting closer, and they backed down. “I’d be delighted, Detective Inspector. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from… our mutual acquaintances.”

Mel wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard Lestrade mutter, “I’m sure you have,” under his breath. He gave a resigned huff, then turned toward to take control of his investigators.

The woman who bumped into Mel earlier came up to their little group and stopped next to Andrew, the man she’d been dancing with in tow. “Everything under control?” Her dark eyes darted to Andrew’s two friends, then they settled on Mel and took on an interested gleam.

Mel felt a stirring of interest, and would have gleamed back if she knew how.

“Of course,” Andrew said mildly. “No need to interrupt your evening. Have fun with Tanner.”

“Seems like things are taking a turn towards the paperwork. I should head back to the” — Tanner’s eyes flicked towards Mel, then back to Andrew and the woman. —“Office, and see what needs to be done there. Coming, Eve?”

“Of course. Just a minute, Bill.” The woman approached Mel and held out a slip of paper. “My name is Eve. Give me a ring when you’re done with the police and I’ll run you home.”

Mel blinked at the paper. It simply read Eve Moneypenny, with a phone number. Her interest flared higher before she tamped it down. “Thanks, but I’m, er, I’m at a hotel…” Was Eve suggesting what Mel thought she was suggesting? What about the man Eve was with?

Eve’s smile broaded. “Even better.” She turned to the man she’d been dancing with. “Shall we?”

Mel turned to watch them leave, frowning slightly as she tried to figure out their relationship. Co-workers, obviously, but were they more? She gave her head a slight shake and turned back when Andrew spoke to her.

“They’re just friends.”

“Oh. Good.” Mel wasn’t sure what to make of that information — had he noticed Eve flirting with her and approved? — and then Detective Inspector Lestrade was there at her elbow.

“Are you ready to go? I’ll take you to the station and we’ll get your statement.” Lestrade aimed an admonishing glare towards Andrew. “And I’ll see you there, yes?”

“Of course,” Andrew replied, his smile bland.  _ Like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth,  _ as Mel’s Grandma would say.

“Right,” Lestrade said skeptically. Then, apparently giving up, he shook his head and turned back to Mel. “Shall we?”

Mel allowed Lestrade to escort her out. She’d certainly had a more exciting evening than she had expected. No one could claim she wasn’t trying to  _ carpe _ her  _ diems.  _ And if she played her cards right… Mel thought about Eve’s suggestive smile when offering to pick her up from the station. She just might have even more  _ diems  _ to  _ carpe  _ later on. She'd definitely appreciate having plenty of new material to fantasize about as she rested on the long flight home tomorrow. 


	2. Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mel moved on with her life after her run-in with danger in London. She was looking forward to a new job and making new friends — she thought she would never see the man who had helped her or his two friends again. A chance encounter in an elevator in Lima showed her how wrong she was — and left her with more questions than answers.

Mel slumped against the back wall of the elevator and sighed. It was so nice to get away from the crowd! Deliberately forcing her shoulders to relax, she watched the floor numbers tick up, one by one. She hoped they wouldn’t pause. That would mean a stop to let in other passengers and she had no desire to share right now. She was going to start her new job in Lima soon, so she’d decided to take a couple of tours around Peru. In the last two weeks she’d already been though one whirlwind tour of the country, and she had another tour starting in the morning. Now, she just wanted some time to herself. At least she didn’t need to worry as much about maintaining her hair while on the tours. She had adopted the easy, natural style she’d learned from Eve during her London adventure.

Her heart sank as the elevator came to a stop at the top floor. Then she laughed at herself. Of course it would stop there — she’d pushed the button for that floor herself. In all likelihood, no one would be getting on. Then she could just wait there, alone, until someone on a lower floor summoned the elevator. Still, she tensed as the doors opened, relaxing only when they started to close. 

Just as the doors were bare inches away from being completely closed, a hand appeared in the gap, causing the doors to slide open once more. Μel swore under her breath, waiting for the doors to completely open. Who would be sharing the elevator with her? Her eyes widened when she saw the man who stepped in.

Tall, blond, handsome — and a coldly aristocratic face that unnerved her. Flat green eyes swept the elevator, then snapped to her, locking onto her face. One winged blond brow rose inquisitively. “I’m sorry, were you getting off on this floor?”

The cultured British voice jogged Mel’s memory, and she blurted, “Oh! You’re one of Andrew’s friends! From the club in London last year?” As she spoke, the elevator doors slid smoothly shut, with no further interruptions.

The man’s brows went up fractionally in surprise, but then the confusion in his eyes cleared. “Ah, Melody, correct?”

Mel smiled, almost ridiculously relieved. She remembered the feeling of danger she’d gotten from this man and his friend while Andrew had been helping her. “Yes.”

Aristocratic indifference thawed to something approaching human. “Nice to see you again. You’re sure you weren’t getting off at this floor?” His knuckle hovered over the door open button.

Mel nodded, wishing that she knew his name. Andrew had kept her from a nasty experience with her date, but the two men with him had never given their names, and at this point she felt it would be too awkward to ask. “There’s a convention going on at the hotel, and I’m here on a tour. I don’t know anyone, so they assigned me a roommate. I’m sure she’s nice, but…” she shrugged, grimacing.

He smiled in understanding. “But you don’t know her, and you just wanted a bit of time to yourself. So you’re hiding in the lift for privacy?”

Feeling a bit embarrassed, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“There aren’t many places in a strange hotel to get some time to yourself,” he said, as if trying to sound reassuring. He pushed the button for the ground floor — using his knuckle. Maybe he was a germophobe? And then, out of nowhere, he said, “Yes.”

Mel frowned at the non sequitur. It didn’t seem as though he’d been speaking to her. Maybe a phone call? But she didn’t see a bluetooth headset in his ear. “Sorry?”

“Nothing, my dear. Just thinking out loud.” He smiled at her, a slight, polite upturn at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve just come from a meeting with a client.”

“Oh.” Mel wasn’t sure what the correct response should be. “I… hope it was a successful meeting?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Moderately, yes. Have you had dinner? I hear the hotel restaurant here is excellent.”

Mel was slightly taken aback at his suggestion, but then she told herself it was probably an innocent invitation. After all, from the looks of things last year, not only was he gay, he was taken. She nodded. “All right.”

“Excellent.” He paused for a moment, and then his smile was back. “I have a reservation. If we hurry, we can make it.”

Mel smiled back. Hopefully the Maitre d’ would say his name. But then she wondered — when had he made the reservations? It seemed to her that this dinner was a spur of the moment thing… 

The elevator stopped twice on its way to the ground floor, letting other guests on and off. Andrew’s friend stepped closer to Mel, but didn’t speak. At one point, he smoothed his hair and scratched at his ear, as though he was nervous. Then he dropped his hand, shooting her an engaging smile while he shoved both hands into his pockets.

Mel wasn’t sure what to say. Was he nervous or not? Why would he be nervous? But the silence didn’t seem uncomfortable between them, despite the mixed signals, so she said nothing. When the elevator came to a stop in the lobby, they exited and went around the corner to the stairs that led to the restaurant on the mezzanine level.

Fortunately, he gave his name — William Sterling — to the Maitre’ d, who didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual about the reservation. Mel was careful not to seem too interested in his name. Accepting a dinner invitation without knowing the inviter’s name was just too embarrassing. Especially if you’d — sort of — met the inviter before.

The Maitre d’ showed them to a table overlooking the lobby. Mel sat, taking the menu he offered her, and looked out over the railing. It was a lovely view. There was a central atrium garden below, with an indoor waterfall running down one wall. At its bottom, the pool fed into a stream that meandered around the edges of the atrium, with random decorative footbridges crossing it that led to paths through the garden. 

“The salmon looks interesting, but so does the steak. What do you think?” 

William’s question drew Mel’s attention to her menu. She opened it. Thankfully it was bilingual, although the first thing that caught her eye was a dish featuring roast guinea pig. She stared at it blankly for a moment, trying not to remember Mr. Fluffball, the class pet when she was in second grade.  _ They’re not pets here, Mel,  _ she told herself sternly, then turned to the seafood section. Ah, there was the salmon. “Yes, the salmon does look good. Although the tuna looks tasty as well.”

William laughed. “We could always order both, and share.”

“Oh, I like that idea! It really is difficult to choose.”

Their conversation stayed light. She’d gotten ‘Call me William’, with a smile that was utterly charming. Mel almost wished he wasn’t gay. But, instead of giving into the urge to proposition him, she told him a little about her new job as a pharmaceutical rep. William didn’t say much about what business brought him to Lima, but she had the impression that he was in international sales, too. 

They were half through their salad starters when a disturbance at the hotel entrance caught Mel’s attention. Sirens, flashing lights, and loud voices heralded the arrival of the local police and what looked like an ambulance crew. “What’s going on down there?”

William looked over, sweeping the lobby with his gaze. “Maybe a guest is ill?”

“Yeah,” Mel agreed absently. Why did she have the feeling William had been aware of the commotion before she had noticed? And why would there be police for a sick guest? Or maybe that was a standard thing? It was odd, though. There seemed to be a lot of police down there…

“Can you tell me more about your new job?” William asked, diverting her attention from the spectacle below. 

“Oh! Yes, it’s with JonesPenHanessy. JPH is a great company. I get to take samples of the latest antibiotics and antivirals to the hospitals here, get them interested in the product, and then the guys in Sales follow up. I’m so lucky to have gotten this position. I had my professor’s recommendation to an old student of hers. She’s the one that suggested these tours, too. Sort of help me to get a feel for the city, and for Peru as a whole.” She gave an embarrassed shrug. “And I need to brush up on my Spanish a bit.”

“That’s a clever idea,” William said, approving. “We could practice now — if you’d like.”

Mel caught the slight teasing challenge in his tone, and accepted. For the rest of their meal, they spoke only in Spanish.

* * *

After dinner, they went back down the stairs to the lobby. There were still a few uniformed police officers around, either talking to each other or to guests. To Mel’s surprise, William stopped before they turned the corner to the bank of elevators.

“I have an appointment I must keep. I’ll have to leave you here.” 

“All right,” Mel said, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned that earlier. Hopefully dinner hadn’t made him late. “Thanks for a much more enjoyable evening than I was expecting.”

William took her hand and kissed the air over it with a courtly half-bow. Mel fought the urge to giggle as she bid him goodnight. 

She hummed to herself as she went around the corner to the elevators. A policeman was waiting there, challenging everyone wanting to go up. “What’s going on?” She asked him in Spanish.

He eyed her suspiciously — and answered her in English. Maybe her Spanish wasn't improving as much as she’d thought. “A guest was murdered in his room, miss.” 

Mel gasped in shock. No wonder there were police all around. “Are we safe to stay here? Should I to move to another hotel?”

The policeman’s face softened as he hurried to reassure her. “No, that is quite unnecessary. We believe the killer has left. I am here simply to make sure that no one goes to the top floor.”

The top floor? Mel felt a thrill of horror. She and William must have just narrowly escaped meeting the killer! She shuddered. What would have happened to her if the killer had gotten on the elevator with her before William? 

After receiving more reassurance from the policeman, she was allowed to go up to her room. She found her roommate, Marnie, had heard about the murder, and was devouring every bit of information available online.

“I don’t know why you’re not interested in this, Mel. Can you imagine? A  _ murder  _ in the very hotel we’re staying in!” Marnie’s hazel eyes were lit with enthusiasm as she lounged on her bed, tablet balanced on her knees, and a glass of wine on the bedside table.

Mel just sighed and started her evening routine of caring for her hair and preparing for bed. “It wasn’t very pleasant for the poor victim, was it?”

“Well… No,” Marnie admitted, her face falling. “I guess you’re right.” She heaved a heavy sigh and put her tablet aside. “Did you hear the latest about the new Pride and Prejudice remake?”

“No, I haven’t.” Mel let Marnie’s enthusiasm carry her along the conversation. She wasn’t really interested in Hollywood gossip, but at least it wasn’t more talk about murder. Maybe she could guide the conversation towards Marnie’s work as a professional photographer. That had to be more interesting, right?

Wrong. After learning far more about the tricks of the photographic trade than she’d ever wanted to know, Mel managed to turn the conversation towards how late it was. Marnie looked a little disappointed that Mel wanted to call it a night, but mercifully agreed that it as getting late. 

Mel snuggled into her blankets, by this time used to different hotel beds, and tried to sleep. As she lay there in the darkness, her thoughts drifted to her unexpected meeting with William. There were a few things that had struck her as odd at the time that she’d ignored. But… of course he couldn’t have been the murderer. They’d had such a nice dinner together. Still, she couldn’t help but recall the feeling of danger she’d felt at first… 

She tossed and turned for a long time before she was able to fall asleep that night. 

* * *

The next morning, Mel and Marnie went downstairs to a conference room that had been set aside for their tour group. Upbeat music with a Latin beat played throughout the room while the group ate brunch and socialized before the day’s city tour and museum visit.

Mel nibbled a piece of toast as she listened to Marnie chatter excitedly about what they’d see on their city tour. Marnie wasn’t that bad, really, Mel thought, despite her interest in murders and Hollywood gossip. They’d even laughed over the similarities in their names — turned out, Marnie’s last name was Goodman. 

“—and, oh! We’ll get to see the Bridge of Sighs, I’d love to get the chance to get some good photos there” — 

Mel looked up as Marnie broke off. Two men were approaching them. One was in a Peruvian police uniform, and the other in suit. Mel frowned. He didn’t give off a police vibe. He almost reminded her of — 

“Ms. Godwin?” The police officer asked in lightly accented English.

“Yes? Is there something wrong?” What could be the problem? Her passport and other papers were all in order, but the policeman held an official looking folder…

“Not at all, Ms. Godwin,” the other man said. “Just clearing up a few things from last night.”

“You mean,” — Marnie dropped her voice, to exclaim dramatically, — “the _ murder?” _

The man’s brown eyes flicked toward her, assessing, then dismissed her and focused back on Mel. “Just for a few minutes, Ms. Godwin. We’ll make sure you don’t miss your tour.”

“This way, please.” The policeman said, not giving her a chance to refuse, and waved toward the door.

Feeling as though she was left with no choice, Mel got up and, with a backward glance at Marnie, who smiled at her encouragingly, she went with the two men into the hallway. The policeman — and really, he wasn’t wearing a nametag. Why couldn’t he have given her his name? — ushered her into a small room next door. It was obviously a casual meeting room. Instead of a large table and chairs, there were several comfortable easy chairs grouped around a coffee table that held a carafe, cups, and a tray of pastries. 

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” the policeman said.

Mel sat, and waited until the two men were seated opposite her. Then she went on the offensive. “Who are you? And what do you want from me?”

“Forgive us, please, Ms. Godwin,” the policeman said. “I am Detective Horacio Diaz. My companion is Mr. Felix Leiter, from your CIA.” Leiter grimaced at the introduction but said nothing. Seemingly oblivious, the policeman continued, “I am to ask you about the murder in this hotel last evening.”

“But I don’t know anything about that,” Mel protested. “Just the commotion in the lobby when I was at dinner.”

“Yes,” Diaz pounced. “It is your dining companion that we wish to ask you about.” He pulled out two photographs from the folder he held and handed them to her. “What do you know about this man? We believe him to be one Alec Trevelyan.”

Mel took them with an odd sense of trepidation. One photo was a still from a security camera, showing her and William leaving the elevator last evening. Her stomach clenched.  _ What was going on? Why were they interested in him?  _ The other photo was of William alone, standing in a casual pose on a random street corner that could have been in any city, looking at something off camera. His hair was longer, almost to his ears, so it couldn’t have been a recent photo. “Are you sure of the name? I know him as William.” She handed the photos back to Diaz and lied through her teeth. “I’m sorry, I never got his last name.”

Diaz nodded as though he expected her answer, and put the photos back in the folder and placed it on the table next to the carafe. “You shared an elevator. Do you remember what floor he entered from?”

“No.” The word was out of her mouth before she could think about it. Diaz looked disappointed at her answer, but Mel thought she saw satisfaction — or was it approval? — in Leiter’s eyes.  _ Why? _

“Let’s discuss what you know of this man.” Diaz took a moment to pour two cups of coffee, and set one in front of Mel. “Do you know what brought him to Lima?”

The coffee’s aroma drifted on the air up to her nose, and Mel picked up the cup, inhaling appreciatively. She took a cautious sip, wary of the temperature, and found that it was a lovely blend. Peru had such delicious coffee! She ignored the two men with her for a moment as she took another swallow. Coffees like this one were meant to be savored. Then she looked up at Diaz and shrugged. “Business meetings, I think. He said he was in imports and exports.”

Diaz cast a significant glance at Leiter, puzzling Mel further. What did that have to do with anything? For that matter, why was she being so close-mouthed? She’d had a good experience dealing with the police in London, and Detective Diaz seemed to be a nice man. William had been at the hotel for a simple business meeting. Surely he had nothing to do with the murder.

The questioning continued in that vein. Diaz asked the questions while Leiter observed. Mel was relived that she simply did not know the answers to Diaz’s questions, but she was just as frustrated as he seemed to be when they finally let her go. As she left the room, Mr. Leiter-of-your-CIA handed her a business card. 

“Just in case you ever need help,” he told her with a smile that was nowhere near as charming as William’s had been.

Mel mumbled her thanks and stuffed it into her pocket, where she forgot about it, intent on returning to the conference room and the rest of the tour group.

When she got there, she found everyone finishing up their meals and making their one-last-trips to the buffet. The harried tour guide looked relieved to see her and let her know they would be leaving shortly, as he ticked her name off his list.

There was just enough time for Mel to grab an apple to eat on the way. She was eyeing a tempting piece of pastry when Marnie found her and pulled her aside. 

“What. Happened?” Marnie asked, her eyes widening dramatically.

Mel pasted a reassuring smile on her face. “Nothing, really. They thought I’d seen something last night while I was wandering around before dinner. They were mistaken.”

“Oh.” Marnie looked almost disappointed by her answer. Then, with a shrug, she said, “Well, let’s get going, or we’ll get the worst seats on the bus!”

Mel trailed after her new friend. She caught sight of Leiter in the lobby, watching the group head out of the hotel. She could feel his contemplative gaze on her as she got onto the bus. What did he want?

Marnie chose a pair of seats close to the front of the bus, and took the window seat. She patted the seat next to her. “Mel, come on!”

Of course Marnie would want the best view. She was probably planning where to take pictures. Mel had to pick up a discarded newspaper laying across the aisle seat so she could sit down. The headline caught her eye, and she automatically translated the title — something about a murdered American businessman. She hadn’t realized the victim had been American. Maybe that was why Leiter had been there? That thought reminded her of the business card still in her pocket. She quickly transferred it to her wallet while Marnie was distracted by the view of the city streets they were passing. She probably would never need it, but… 

Marnie dug an elbow into Mel’s ribs, distracting her. “Look! It’s the  _ Plaza de Armas!” _

Pushing all thoughts of murdered businessmen, the CIA, and William Sterling from her mind, Mel decided to concentrate on enjoying the tour with her new friend.


	3. Unexpected Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mel thought she was done with the men she'd met in London, and now, after dropping her roommate at the train station, she knows just how wrong she was. The man with icy blue eyes bumps into her, and sends her on an unexpected mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mel's story was only going to be three parts long, but she's having fun with her adventure! There's a lot packed into this last part, so I've split it into two chapters. I hope you enjoy!

“Damn it, Marnie, if I have to haul my ass out here to drop you and all your equipment off at the train, the least you could do would be to keep up.”

“Relax, Mel,” said her roommate, hitching her bag of photography equipment higher on her shoulder. “It’s fine, there’s boatloads of time left before the train leaves. Besides, this is hardly _ all _my equipment.”

Mel scoffed. “Yeah, but I need to get to work, too, you know.”

“I know, and I do appreciate you helping me with my bags.” Marnie grinned at her. “Oh! I’m expecting a package from a client — could you keep an eye out for it?”

“Yeah. I’ll leave it on your side of the desk.”

“No, keep it with you,” Marnie said, stopping suddenly. She had a more serious look than Mel was used to. “It won’t be very big.”

Mel briefly wondered just what her roommate was expecting. Maybe a check? A roll of film? “Sure. Easy enough to do. Besides, you’re only going to be gone two days. Whatever it is might not even get here until you get back.”

“Thanks.” Marnie smiled, relived. “Hey, look — I think that’s my car just up ahead.”

Fortunately, Marnie’s car was indeed just up ahead. Mel gave her friend a hug before handing off the equipment bag she held. “Good luck, have fun, stay safe!”

“Thanks, Mel, you’re the best!” Marnie hitched the bag onto her shoulder with the other one and turned to head onto the train. 

Mel stood watching, to see if she could see Marnie in one of the windows, but after a few minutes it was clear her friend’s seat was on the other side of the train. She took a few steps back as the train’s horn blasted and it pulled slowly away from the station.

Behind her, on the opposite track, another train was pulling in, and soon she was engulfed by a flood of passengers disembarking. She got jostled a few times until she managed to go with the flow, fortunately towards the station house and the exit. She might make it to work on time after all.

Someone rudely grabbed her right arm and spun her around, forcing her to walk back towards the train. She dug in her heels. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Just be quiet and walk,” the man growled in her ear.

She stared at him as he pulled her along. He was wearing a waiter’s outfit, but that accent… It was the third man, who had been with Andrew and William at the club so long ago. “I know you!”

He glanced at her, his blue eyes as icy as in her memory, and his mouth set in a grim line. “I know you do. That’s why I grabbed you — I need your help.”

“Me?” Mel squeaked, astonished, and finally managed to pull them both to a halt.

The man — why didn’t anyone ever _ introduce _themselves? — gave her an impatient glare before looking over his shoulder. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him, because he didn’t hurry her along again. 

“Look, I just need you to take this package.” He thrust a small box wrapped in white paper into her unresisting hands. “Get on this train, and give it to the man in the blue shirt.”

“Give it to?” Mel shook her head, and took refuge in details. “But… I don’t have a ticket or anything! I _ can’t _get on the train!”

The man looked around again, and this time he took hold of her upper arms and gave her a little shake, his icy eyes boring into hers. “This is very, very important, Mel. And very easy. All you need to do is get on the train, give the box to the man in the blue shirt, and then get off. You won’t need a ticket.”

Mel’s frustration boiled over and she snapped, “What’s going on, why me, and _ what is your damn name?” _

He’d been looking around again, but his eyes snapped back to her, assessing. “Call me James. I told you all you need to know.” His voice dropped, apparently trying to sound reassuring — and failing, in Mel’s opinion. “Just get on the train, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Safe?” 

He spun her around and gave her a little push towards the train. “Just go!” Then he took off running, pausing only to call another instruction over his shoulder. “And don’t open the box!”

Mel stood there, staring after him, until she realized there were three men chasing him. That must be why he’d asked for her help. She dove for the train, hoping they hadn’t seen James talking to her. She looked back out the door just as the men caught him, joined by two others. She ducked back inside, her heart pounding. Had one of them been turning towards her? _ Crap! _

She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. She’d be all right, they couldn’t have seen her — then she realized the train had pulled away from the station. Oh no! She went up the steps into the car proper and looked down the aisle. Every seat was filled — and every single person wore a blue shirt. They were supporters of some football club. Mel swore under her breath. What was she supposed to do now?

_“Billetes! Billetes, por favor!” _The familiar call came from behind her.

Mel chewed on her lip. She was on the train without a ticket. How was she going to explain this? She didn’t want to get arrested or anything. Maybe the conductor would let her buy a ticket from him? 

_ “Billete, senorita?” _The conductor’s voice came from behind her.

Mel turned around, pasting a bright, fake smile on her face. “Right, my ticket…” she laughed nervously. “There’s a funny story about that… 

* * *

Mel slammed into the apartment she shared with Marnie and dropped the mail on the side table. “What a day!” There was no answering voice, and for a moment she worried, then she remembered that her roommate had left on the train that morning. It seemed so long ago… 

She’d gotten off the train at the first stop, but that had still been 5 hours away. Even though she’d caught the next train back, she had been traveling all day, and missed an entire day of work. She groaned, knocking the back of her head against the door. That meant plenty of phone calls tomorrow to reschedule everything, and trying to soothe the ruffled feathers of the hospital representatives she was supposed to meet with today. 

She let out a stifled, teakettle scream. That man! He’d ruined her entire day! Then she recalled her last sight of him, surrounded by all those men attacking him, and guilt stabbed her. At least she hadn’t actually been hurt. But she still had his box, and no idea what to do with it.

The thought of the box reminded her that Marnie had wanted her to be on the lookout for something, too. She sorted through the mail on the table. Bills, a letter from her mother, junk mail — what was that? Looked like it was a card, but there was no return address, and the addressee was blurred where the envelope had gotten wet and the ink had run. Was it for her or Marnie? Was it just some strange advertisement? Mel huffed impatiently. It probably wasn’t the package her roommate told her to expect, but she wouldn’t open it until Marnie got back, just in case.

Maybe some tea to settle her nerves… Mel pulled off her coat as she headed toward the kitchen, intending to drape it over the sofa until she felt up to dealing with it. But she stopped short as she left the little entryway and got a good look at her living room. Or at least, the shambles that used to be her living room. Her jaw dropped as she attempted to make sense of the jumbled visual in front of her. 

The sofa had been slashed open, its stuffing erupting into the open air. Its cushions and throw pillows were strewn around the room, equally slashed, their stuffing scattered in handfuls around their depleted corpses. The bureau she and Marnie used as a desk and catch all hadn’t escaped attention, either. The drawers were open, their contents dumped out to mix with the clumps of stuffing. Even the paintings were askew — and Mel found herself abruptly on the floor as her legs gave out. What the hell had happened while she’d been gone?

* * *

Mel indulged herself in a crying fit — she deserved it, damn it, after the day she’d had — and then went to work putting as much of the apartment to rights as she could. No corner of the apartment had escaped destruction. She’d debated contacting the police, but… what good would that do? Nothing seemed to be missing, and she could put two and two together and get four. Or in this case, two decidedly lethal looking men in London, one murder in a Lima hotel, and one mysterious package, and came up with — something she wasn’t sure she wanted to be involved with. Whoever had ransacked her apartment had obviously been looking for the package James had given to her. She’d hand the damn thing off if she knew who to give it to. 

A few hours later, she tied up yet another garbage bag full of junk and felt like crying again. It was late, she wanted to sleep, and there was still so much more mess that she needed to pick up. How would she explain this to Marnie? To their landlord?

She hauled the bag to the entry and stacked it against the other bags waiting there. The bag promptly fell over, knocking into the small table, and caused their mail to cascade down over the rest of the bags. Mel growled and scooped the mail back up. The odd envelope caught her eye again, and she swore. She’d forgotten about it. She turned and shoved it into the pocket of the coat hanging on its hook nearby, then she surveyed the stacked bags.

Maybe she could get some help to take them to the dumpster behind the building? She paused, chewing her lip. Something about that thought… Someone had said something about help… Oh! She grabbed her wallet and thumbed through the business cards she’d acquired over the last six months. Did she still have it?

Mel triumphantly pulled the business card out of the pack. Felix Leiter, with a contact number there in Lima. A few minutes going through the scattered remains of the local phone book later, and she verified that was indeed the local number of the American Embassy — and presumably the office where Leiter worked.

She went into the other room to get her phone, squashing a moment of doubt. This might or might not be the right thing to do, but at least it would be out of her hands.

* * *

Mel jumped a mile when a demanding knock on the door shattered the silence. She’d been seated precariously on the edge of the sofa, trying to decide what next. She took a deep breath to gather her scattered wits — and her courage. Whoever it was knocked again, sounding, if anything, even more demanding. Sternly telling herself that if it was whoever had broken in earlier they would have just broken in again, Mel got to her feet and went to the door. 

She peered through the peephole and breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized the man standing there. It was Felix Leiter. Mel hurried to undo the chain and open the door before he could knock again. She wasn’t sure her nerves could stand it. She’d barely gotten the door open before he was pushing his way in. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

He swung around to face her and firmly closed the door, locking it before he spoke. “Getting out of sight as quickly as possible, Ms. Godwin.” He eyed her. “You’re looking considerably more frazzled than last time we met.”

“Yeah, well last time we met I hadn’t had my home searched by maniacs.” She gestured towards the rest of the apartment, wordlessly inviting him to look around.

Leiter whistled as he took in the devastation she hadn’t managed to completely clean up. “They certainly did a number here. You say you know what they were looking for?”

“I think so, yeah.” She studied him for a moment. Could she trust him? She had no idea what was really going on. Finally she sighed. “Come on, the kitchen table and chairs are relatively unscathed.”

Mel led him into the kitchen, where Leiter looked around, but said nothing as he took the chair she indicated. “Coffee?” He nodded. 

She let herself take comfort from the familiar ritual of grinding the beans and filling the coffeemaker. Caffeine might aggravate her nerves, but at this point, it would be a welcome jolt of energy. 

Her guest stayed quiet. When the coffee was done, Mel sat opposite him, two steaming mugs of coffee in front of her. She pushed one over to him and took a swallow of her coffee, barely tasting it, as she tried to think how to begin. “This morning, I ran into a… sort of acquaintance.” 

Leiter nodded. “I take it that has something to do with why you called me?”

“Yes.” Mel shook her head, annoyed at herself. “But I need to start at the beginning. Last year. The last night of my vacation in London. A man named Andrew saved me from, well, date rape. He had two men with him, and I never got their names.” Mel paused as Leiter shifted impatiently. Before he could speak, she said, “Just wait a moment. This is relevant, I promise. Six months ago, when the businessman was murdered? You and that policeman asked me about my dinner date with William Sterling. William was one of those two men. The man I met this morning — he said his name was James — was the other man.”

Leiter’s eyebrows went up, but he said nothing. 

“I… I figured you might be interested?” Mel finished lamely, wondering if she’d made a mistake after all.

“Oh, I can speak now?” Leiter said, and Mel almost thought he was teasing her. “Did this James have light blue eyes?”

She grimaced, remembering. “Like chips of ice.”

Leiter nodded once, with a fondly exasperated smile. “Yeah, I know them. It’s a good thing you brought me in on this. Tell me everything that happened this morning.”

Mel took a deep breath and began. She went through the story once, and then Leiter took her through it again, stopping to confirm each detail. 

* * *

She was exhausted by the time Leiter was finally satisfied he had wrung every drop of information from her. She glanced at the clock over the stove. 1:00 in the morning. No wonder she was so tired! Maybe she could push some of the crap off her bed so she could curl up and sleep.

Leiter finished the rest of his third cup of coffee and stood. “Get your coat.”

“What? Why?” Mel stared at him, dumbfounded. 

“I’m bringing you in.” He raised a hand, soothing. “Nothing wrong, Godwin. I want you to go through mug shots, and I need to check out that box.”  
  


* * *

Why had she agreed to this? Mel hung on to the door handle for dear life as Leiter swerved around a slower vehicle. _ Where the hell had he learned to drive? _

He cast a sidelong glance at her, amusement creeping onto his face at her nervousness. “Better get use to it, Godwin.”

“Why?” she gritted irritably, bracing herself against another swerve, this one nearly sending her into Leiter’s side.

“If you’re going to be hanging around with Bond and Trevelyan, you need to get used to less than complete respect for traffic laws.”

“I’d be surprised if their driving was worse than this!” Mel shot back.

Leiter scoffed. “This is relatively tame compared to their driving. Besides, you should see Moneypenny’s driving.”

Moneypenny? Mel perked up. “You mean Eve?” Leiter threw her a startled glance, so she continued, feeling a bit smug. “I’ve experienced her driving. We dated for a bit last year.” No need to let him know it was just the one night — but what a night!

She saw new respect for her in his eyes. _ Good. _Except — “Keep your eyes on the road!”

He swore, practically stood on the brakes, then hauled the steering wheel around to send them skidding past a clump of drunken tourists. _ Why the hell were they out at this time of the morning? _When the car came out of its skid, Leiter kept the speed down.

Mel just sat there, trying to get her heartbeat under control, and sent him totally judgy vibes. Leiter must have felt her disapproval.

“I had to slow down. We’re almost there.”

“Right,” Mel muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. His dark skin took on a slightly darker shade as he flushed.

The rest of the trip was short, but relatively tame. True to his word, they really had almost reached the Embassy. Leiter pulled into the rear parking lot, coming to a stop between a huge black SUV and a battered VW Beetle.

“Come along, Godwin,” Leiter called, getting out of the car. 

Mel shook her head. It must be a male thing to act like they hadn’t been caught acting foolishly. 

Leiter escorted her past security and up to his office, where he passed her off to his assistant, a junior agent. “Murphy, here, will run you through the mug books.”

“You have _ books?” _Mel was surprised. “The mug shots aren’t on the computer?”

“It’s just a phrase, Godwin,” Leiter sighed. “Yes, the mug shots are on the computer. Go through them all; I should be back by the time you’re done.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Checking out your boyfriend’s box,” he said, brandishing it as he left

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Mel began, bristling, then cut herself off. That was obvious. Leiter was just trying to get a rise out of her. She huffed and turned to the other agent. He looked to be about her own age, maybe a bit older. Had Leiter woken him up, or had he been awake? He looked fresh and unrumpled. “Okay, Murph, so what now?”

He laughed, a rich sound full of humor. “It’s Dan, actually. Unless... I have to call you Godwin?”

She smiled, taken by his infectious good spirits. “Mel.”

“Nice to meet you, Mel.” The look in Dan’s eyes showed his appreciation of her, but she found she didn’t mind. “So. Now, I log onto the computer, pull up the program, and you look through the mug shots.”

“All of them?” That sounded like it would take forever. “Isn’t there an easier way?”

He paused at the keyboard, looking thoughtful. “Do you have any details we can use to narrow the search down a bit?”

Mel shook her head with an annoyed grimace. “No.”

“Then you’ll have to look through as many as it takes.” He got up and held the chair out for her. “Your throne, milady.”

She snorted at him, but she smiled as she sat and began paging through the pictures on the screen.

Half an hour later, though, she let out a frustrated groan. She looked up at him. “This isn’t working. There are so many pictures, and I only saw those men only a few minutes. I don’t remember they look like.”

“Sure you do,” Dan said cheerfully. “All you need to do —” 

“No.” She stood, interrupting him, and looked for her coat. She was tired and she was done with all this. “I’m telling you I don’t —”

“Mel. Come on, look at me. You can do this.”

She turned. He seemed so confident as he held out the chair for her, motioning for her to sit. Her shoulders slumped and she dropped into the chair. “All right, I’ll try.”

“Good, thank you, Mel. Now. Breathe. In, hold, and out. Again. Close your eyes and picture yourself at the train, looking out. What do you feel? What do you smell?” He paused, and she kept breathing. What was he waiting for? Then he said, sounding urgent, “What do you _ see?” _

The last word lashed at her, and Mel realized that she did remember something. “Oh! One of them had a, a, what do you call it, a port wine stain on his neck.”

Dan nodded enthusiastically. “Excellent, shift over a bit and I’ll put that in. Once we find him, we can find his known associates.”

Feeling a bit better about the whole thing, Mel went back to the search with renewed vigor. Sure enough, five minutes later, she sat back with a triumphant cry. “Eureka!”

“Really? Fantastic!” Dan leaned over her shoulder to read the screen. “Let me see. Luis Rios.” He reached around her to tap a key and whistled. “Take a look at that rap sheet. Looks like a bad ‘un all right.”

“Will you be able to find him?”

“Think so. Here…” he brought up another set of pictures. “Do any of these guys look familiar? They’re all known to hang out with old Luis, here.”

Mel studied them. “I think so?” She pointed to three of the men. “It’s kinda hard to be sure, but… yeah, them.”

“That’s fine,” Dan said, reassuring. “We’ll put a watch on these guys while we bring Rios in.”

“Good.” Mel allowed herself to relax, and stood, intending to ask the way to the nearest bathroom. Instead, she found herself swaying dangerously as the events of the last day and a half finally caught up with her.

“Whoah, look out, there.” Dan steadied her. “Why don’t you get some sleep while I get all this started? Through that door is Felix’s office, and it has a very comfortable couch.”

Mel hesitated, tempted to ask how Dan knew the couch was comfortable, but pressing matters changed her mind. “Bathroom?”

He grinned at her. “He’s got an en suite in there, too. Go on.”

She was way too tired to argue, so she went. As promised, there was an en suite attached to the office. Once done, she flipped off the lights in the office, toed off her sneakers, and stretched out on the couch. She was asleep as soon as her eyes closed. 

She didn’t even feel it when Dan checked on her a few minutes later and draped his suit coat over her.


	4. In the Thick of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mel's adventure takes another turn as she gets drawn further into the world of James, Alec, and Q.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Only the epilogue left, for wrapping things up.

Mel woke to the tantalizing aroma of over-brewed coffee and rapidly cooling eggs and toast on the coffee table next to the couch — and an unfamiliar jacket covering her. Had it been Dan? She smiled. How kind of him! She sat up, letting the jacket slide off her shoulders, and faced the food. 

Whoever had left it had also left a face towel and washcloth folded on the other end of the coffee table, with a travel sized toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a small stick deodorant. She wrinkled her nose. Not a brand she appreciated, but beggers couldn’t be choosers. Had Dan left all this, too? Or had it been Leiter?

She considered the breakfast. Nope. She couldn’t face it quite yet. She’d rather be at least a little cleaner. Bathroom first.

A few minutes later, feeling a bit fresher with teeth brushed and face washed, she stood over the paltry meal on the coffee table. She sneered at the now-congealed eggs, grabbed the toast to nibble on, and picked up the coffee. She took a swallow on her way to the door and stopped short, grimacing. It was worse than she’d thought. There had to be a better way to acquire caffeine. She’d really thought better of Dan. 

The door opened with a perfunctory knock, and Leiter stuck his head into the room. “Hey, Godwin! You decent? C’mon, things are happening.”

“Yeah, only tell me there’s decent coffee here.”

Leiter shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Thank God,” Mel said fervently. “Can I get some?”

“Sure. Across the street and down two blocks. Bring a cup back for me while you’re at it.”

Mel stared at him. “You asshole.”

“Yep.” He stood aside and held the door for her. “Come on.”

She followed him to the outer office. Dan was there, wordlessly holding a steaming travel cup out to her. She took it and inhaled, rapidly revising her previous opinion. “You’re a prince among men, Dan.”

“If we can postpone the lovefest, we’ve got work to do,” Leiter said.

Mel sipped the coffee, savoring the mouthful before swallowing. “All right, then. What’s going on?”

Leiter smirked. “First, we’re phoning a friend.”

Immediately suspicious, Mel asked, “Who?”

Instead of answering, Leiter turned to Dan. “Murphy, that call go through yet?”

“In the conference room.”

* * *

The conference room proved to be right down the hall. Mel and Leiter took seats at the table, while Dan fussed at a console to the right of a large video screen.

“Putting it up now, sir.” Dan pressed a few buttons, and with a wink at Mel, he waved his hand in a flourish towards the main screen on the wall. The screen burst into life, showing a bland, corporate-looking conference room that… was empty.

Nevertheless, Leiter looked pleased. He cleared his throat. “Quartermaster? You there?”

“Mr. Leiter?” The back of a head full of dark, curly hair popped into view. “Where —? Oh.” The young man turned around. “There you are. One moment, please, and I’ll get Q.”

Leiter huffed impatiently. “I thought the whole point of this was to have you two get the connection up and running first, Murphy.”

“Yes, sir,” Dan said, unperturbed. “To be fair to Kevin, though, wrangling the Quartermaster is roughly equal to attempting to herd cats.”

Leiter side-eyed him, then burst out with a belly laugh.

Mel used the distraction to take a longer look at Dan. He really was kind of cute. Just a hair taller than she was, with a lanky runner’s build, light brown hair and brown eyes full of irrepressible good humor. If he ended up asking her out, she wouldn’t say no. And if he  _ didn’t  _ end up asking her out, well… There was nothing stopping her from asking  _ him  _ out, instead. 

Muffled voices just off screen heralded the arrival of the mysterious Quartermaster. Mel was surprised to see that it was Andrew, from the club. Then she huffed a laugh at herself. Of course it would be Andrew. She should have known. After all, she’d already had run-ins with his two friends. She shook her head at Dan, mouthing ‘nothing’, when he raised an inquiring eyebrow in her direction. 

“Ah, Q, there you are,” Leiter said, with only a trace of his earlier amusement. “I hear you’re missing an agent.” 

Andrew’s — Q’s — eyebrows rose over his glasses, as he went from mildly annoyed to alert concern. “What are you talking about, Felix?”

Leiter waved at Mel. “This lovely young lady had a run-in with your man Bond yesterday. He gave her a little present containing an unknown toxin and its antidote.”

_ What?  _ Mel shot him a glance. What the heck had she been carrying all day yesterday? He shook his head slightly and pointed toward the screen.

Q’s eyes shifted, his brows rising momentarily over his glasses as he recognized her. “Hello, Mel.”

She ignored him and stared at Leiter. “Was anyone going to tell me just what I was carting around all day yesterday?” She looked from him to Dan, and then to Q. 

“James gave you the package?” Q frowned. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Realizing that would be her best bet to get more information, Mel went through everything as quickly as she could, watching as Q’s expression grew more grave — with a touch of chagrin.

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this, Mel, but I’m also glad it’s you. You have good instincts.” He looked at Leiter. “Even bringing in Felix, here, was the right thing to do. I am sorry about your flat, though.”

Mel shrugged, unsure of what to say. But Q moved on without her having to say anything more.

“Felix, since your lot has the toxin and antidote, we won’t kick up a fuss and demand it back. Just send us any information your scientists come up with about it, and send samples when you can.”

Leiter nodded. “We can do that. But your ‘not kicking up a fuss’ is worth more than that. What else do you want?”

“You know me well.” Q locked eyes with Leiter. “I want James back. I’m sending Alec to you with a copy of James’ brief. All the details will be there. Oh, and there’s a scientist involved, of course. One with a family held hostage. I’d like them all rescued.”

“We can do that.”

“Excellent. Alec will be there by noon your time.” 

“He’s already in country, isn’t he?” Leiter sounded resigned.

“On another assignment, yes.” Q looked at something out of camera range. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

The picture snapped off.

“He could at least have told us where the target is,” Dan said, sounding a bit disgruntled.

“Nah,” Leiter said, not really annoyed. “I expected as much. It’s only two hours, then we’ll have the details. If Trevelyan wasn’t available, or if it would be longer, Q would have let us know.”

Mel frowned. “But why? Wouldn’t it be better to have more time to plan the rescue?” 

Leiter just shrugged. “Come on, you two. Let’s go do a weapons check while we wait.”

Mel traded a glance with Dan and followed along. She wasn’t going to mention she knew nothing about weapons. At a certain point, she was sure, Leiter would send her home, since she really had nothing more to contribute. She paused at that thought. So, why didn’t she want to go home? It would certainly be safer, after all. But then, if she went home, she wouldn’t learn the outcome, would she? She cast a sidelong glance at Dan. Or give a cute guy a chance to ask her out.

* * *

Alec arrived, as promised, by noon. 

Once more he was the frightening stranger Mel had first seen on the elevator at the hotel, and she remembered suddenly the murdered man. She focused on her breathing and tried not to freak out. William, or rather Alec, had been a perfectly nice man at the hotel… a nice man who had just murdered someone. Mel decided that she would put aside her moral outrage at assassination until later. Alec was one of the good guys, right? Still, she could only manage a brief, “Hi,” when she greeted him.

His cold green eyes rested on her for a moment, and once more his face seemed to thaw a bit as he looked at her. He gave her a brief smile. “Hello, Mel. I heard you got mixed up in this.” Then he turned to speak with Leiter before she could say anything else.

Feeling a trifle off-kilter at the abrupt change, Mel glanced at Dan, also standing there looking to be at loose ends. He shrugged at her. Then she realized, with a bit of guilt for feeling put out — James wasn’t just Alec’s friend, they were lovers. No wonder Alec hadn’t had time for her. 

After the greetings were over, they ended up back in the conference room, waiting for Alec to brief them. Mel thought surely they’d send her home now, but no one said anything as she sat at the table beside Dan.

This time, the image on the wall monitor was of a middle-aged white man. 

Alec began. “Late last year, this man got a message to MI6. Frank Wilkerson. He’s a scientist who had been kidnapped by a man named Marcus Harman. Wilkerson was forced to create a biological toxin and its antidote. Harman had kidnapped Wilkerson’s family.” Alec pressed a button, and the image of Wilkerson, a woman, and a young boy flashed on the screen for a moment, before the image changed to a resort. “This is where the family are being held. James went in under cover —” 

“Oh!” Mel leaned forward. “That’s why he was in a waiter’s jacket!”

He nodded. “Exactly. Incidentally, Mel, the man I killed at the hotel wasn’t part of all this, but he ran in the same criminal circles as Harman. The world is well rid of him.”

Mel recognized that was a test of sorts. She deliberately met his eyes and held them for a moment before nodding. 

A small smile of approval appeared on his face for a moment before he continued. “We need to get to Wilkerson and his family and get them out.”

Mel noticed he didn’t mention James. Maybe because he was trying to keep his personal feelings out of this?

“What about Harman?” Leiter asked, with the tone of someone wanting confirmation of a thought rather than asking a question. 

Alec shrugged. “We’ll let the locals arrest him. He can stand trial for his crimes.” 

_ That  _ she definitely didn’t expect, especially since, well. What happened at the hotel. “Why?” At the puzzled faces around the table, she explained her question. “Why arrest him and not kill him?” She didn’t add, ‘like that other man,’ but thought she’d implied it hard enough. 

Oddly, it was Leiter who answered. “We’re catching him in the act, with enough evidence to hang him. A public trial is much more of a deterrent for others.”

Alec nodded. “My target was just as guilty, but had enough blackmail material on people in high places that, well… my method was the best way to handle it.” He smiled, a quirked upturn of the side of his mouth. “When word got out that he was dead, his number two ran for the evidence, and I was able to get it all.”

Mel considered that. Did that really justify —? Moral outrage later, Mel, she reminded herself. “I’m glad you were able to get it, then. But, if you’re sending the police in anyway, why get the family out before the police arrive? Won’t the police be able to rescue them?”

She swore Alec and Leiter looked at her with pity. It was Dan that answered her. “Harman will have his men kill them if he thinks the police are on the way.”

Her voice was small when she answered. “Oh.” 

* * *

Once more, Mel was sure they would send her home. Instead, Dan suggested that they use her as a getaway driver. 

So now she was in a ten passenger touring van, hidden in a pool of darkness created by shooting out two street lights, waiting. Worrying. They’d been gone for half an hour. Shouldn’t that be long enough for them to… do whatever they needed to do? The briefing had been vague, but Dan, Alec, and Leiter all seemed to know what they were doing.

_ Pop! Poppoppop! _

Fireworks? It was the wrong time of year for fireworks, surely. It sounded worryingly like someone shooting… Oh. That’s what it probably was. Now she worried even more. She strained to see through the darkness. Nothing.

Wait. Was that movement? Yes. Leiter and a man, a woman, and a young boy, running towards the van. Probably the Wilkersons, although she couldn’t quite make them out in the strange shadows thrown by the shifting light of the cloud-covered moon. The woman stumbled, but the man grabbed her arm and helped her along.

Mel got out and opened up the rear door as they approached. When Dr. and Mrs. Wilkerson reached the van, Mel pointed to the rear set of seats. As soon as Leiter and the boy were close enough, she hissed, “Are they following you?” 

Leiter shook his head. “Trevelyan’s covering for us.”

She wanted to ask where Dan was, but the boy was crying, and his parents were clinging to each other in the rear seat as if they hadn’t seen each other in months. She traded a look with Leiter and motioned toward the boy. She was so not good with kids. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to hand the boy off to her. One look at her face, however, had Leiter lifting the boy into the van with the direction to go to his parents. 

Then Leiter spun, drawing his gun. Mel wasn’t sure what had alerted him. But immediately after aiming, he pointed the muzzle in the air, just as James and Alec came into view.

Alec ran behind James, blocking him with his body, like a bodyguard. James ran with a hitching gate from a bad leg, and from the way he hunched over, Mel thought he might have broken ribs, too. When they were close enough for her to make them out clearly, she had to hide a wince. His face was a bit battered. Still, she supposed it could’ve been worse. She sternly told her imagination to stop painting pictures of _ worse. _

At the van, Alec stuck close to his lover until James said something in another language. Russian, maybe? From the look of them, she thought he probably meant something like ‘I’m fine’, although judging by Leiter’s grin and Alec’s scowl, it might have been ‘stop hovering like a damn mother hen and do your fucking job’.

Alec’s response was just as short, but he stopped hovering. He put a hand on James’ shoulder — did he give it a squeeze? — and the two men shared a meaningful look. Then James climbed stiffly into the van, while Alec remained on watch outside. Once more Mel stifled the urge to ask about Dan.

The sound of running feet had her swinging around as Leiter and Alec dropped into matching crouches, pistols aimed — at Dan. Mel sighed in relief. But what was he holding? Some sort of furry toy?

Dan gave her a reassuring smile as he passed her and looked into the van. He shoved the furry toy at the kid, who clutched it and mercifully stopped crying.

Mel leaned close to Dan. “What is that thing?”

“His favorite stuffed toy. He couldn’t find it, and, well…” Dan shrugged. “I figured there was enough time for me to find a plush fox.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” James said, sounding tired. “The formulas and Wilkerson’s notes are hidden inside it.” 

Mel traded a look with Dan. She’d almost managed to forget there was a side to this that wasn’t about the people involved, but about Wilkerson’s deadly invention.

“Get ready to go. The police are coming,” Leiter said, his attention still on the compound. “Murphy, drive.”

Mel looked in the same direction. Sure enough, police cars were heading their way.

Dan swung into the driver’s seat, with Leiter climbing in on the passenger side. Alec got in and sat next to James. Mel followed him in and slammed the door shut, with Alec calling out a terse, “Go!”

Mel fell into her seat and struggled with the belt as the van took off. She was sitting with her back to the driver, in a kind of tour guide jump seat. The kid was now in the back with his parents, and James and Alec — she tried not to look as though she was watching them — were in front of her, sitting as close as they could on the bench seat, their thighs and shoulders touching. Alec had a hand on James’ forearm. 

The van swerved around a corner — clearly Dan had gone to the same school of driving as Leiter — just as the first of the police cars roared up to the resort gate.

* * *

Once they got back to the embassy, Leiter whisked the Wilkersons away, saying he’d be back, leaving Dan to take James, Alec, and Mel to the sparsely appointed medical office. Still, Mel was glad to see it was up to the task of treating James’ injuries. 

She stood by, feeling awkward, as Dan pulled stuff out of various drawers to hand to Alec. It looked as though she was right about her unofficial diagnosis of those injuries. Nothing requiring stitches, thank goodness, but a knee that needed to be wrapped, and cracked ribs that didn’t. “Shouldn’t you wrap his ribs, too? You know, for support?” The two of them ignored her while Alec cleaned up the worst of the mess on James’ face.

“Wrapping ribs isn’t a good idea,” Dan said. “Keeps you from breathing deeply, and puts you at risk from pneumonia.”

“But —”

“If it’s bad enough, which this is not, wrapping could push a broken end into the lungs or other internal organs,” Alec said to her calmly, and then aimed a stern look at James. “Some people need to learn to duck.”

James shrugged and winced. “I was rolling with it. They got a lucky boot in.”

_ They’d kicked him when he was on the ground?  _ Mel stared at him, shocked, almost missing Alec’s ‘tch’.

“Here, painkillers.”

James took the pills Alec handed him and dry-swallowed.

The sound of her mobile phone’s ring caused Mel to jump. “Hello?” When she looked up, all three men were watching her. 

“Mel?” It was Marnie. “Where are you, and what happened to the apartment?”

_ Oh shit!  _ “I’ll be home in a little bit to explain, sit tight!” Mel pushed the call end button. “My roommate wants to know what happened. The apartment is a mess, what do I tell her?”

“Don’t worry,” Dan said, reassuring. “We’ll come help sort it out, right?” He looked at the other two and waited for their nods.

Mel just hoped it was a good idea, and not a fast track to disaster.

* * *

Surprisingly, Leiter joined them. He’d finished getting the Wilkersons into some sort of protection for a few days. Of course, once they all got down to the car park, it was a mess. James was favoring ribs that would be bothered by the chest strap of the seat belt, so he couldn’t drive. Alec wasn’t leaving James’ side, so  _ he  _ couldn’t drive. Leiter begged off driving, because if he injured James’ ribs with a sharp turn, Alec would kill him. Mel hadn’t been sure if he thought that was a figurative or literal threat. Dan, the coward, had kept his mouth shut. 

Which was how Mel found herself driving all five of them through the early morning traffic. How many days had it been? She was losing track. Three, maybe? At least that, since Marnie was home now. She turned a corner, careful to slow a bit before accelerating into the turn, and heard a grunt from in back.  _ Oops.  _ She slid a glance at Dan, who smiled encouragingly at her, and she dropped her speed at bit. Better safe than sorry.

* * *

After she parked in the street, Mel got them all up to the apartment door. She was about to stick the key in the lock when the door opened.

Marnie glanced at her, then stared, astonished, at the men she brought with her. “Mel, what’s been going on? Who are these guys?” 

“Oh, uhm, you remember Felix Leiter, from the hotel about six months ago?” Mel ushered everyone in as Marnie stood back, allowing them to enter. “This is Dan, he works with Felix, and these are James and Alec —” She stopped, stunned, as she finally got a good look at the apartment. 

It was no longer a mess. In fact, if Marnie hadn’t been standing there, Mel would have been sure it  _ wasn’t  _ her apartment after all. “What the hell?” 

Everything that had been trashed was gone, replaced by new furniture that looked like it was straight out of a decorating magazine. A cozy new couch with snazzy metal and glass end tables drawn into a conversation nook by a pair of armchairs, facing the wall where a huge brand new television had been installed. A glimpse into the kitchen showed new furniture in there as well, despite that it hadn’t suffered as much in the original attack. “What?”

“That’s what  _ I  _ want to know!” Marnie huffed, crossing her arms.

Leiter shot a glance at James and Alec, then smirked at her. “I think I know who took care of this.”

“Who?” Mel frowned at him, puzzled. He couldn’t have meant those two, that wasn’t possible. But Alec was looking thoughtful. Maybe he knew something?

The TV snapped on, showing a dark walled room with shelves full of various size boxes against the far wall. The camera shifted for a moment, then centered on — Q.

He grinned at her. “I hope you like your surprise, Mel.” 


	5. Drawn In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for explanations and wrapping up loose ends.

It took more than a few minutes, but eventually they were all sitting in the newly refurnished living room, coffee in front of them. Q, watching from the TV, had a mug of something himself. Mel was amused to see that his mug had a Scrabble Q on it.

Marnie leaned over to her and asked quietly, “Where did the money come for all this?” 

Mel shrugged. She had no idea. Fortunately, though, Q decided to answer. “From the discretionary fund.”

That apparently puzzled the two agents. James, eyes narrowing at the TV, asked, _ “What _discretionary fund?”

“Don’t worry,” Q said, with a nonchalant wave of the mug in his hand. “You weren’t using the money anyway.”

James grumbled a bit, but Alec whispered something in his ear, and he looked a bit happier. Mel wasn’t sure she wanted to know. What she did want to know, however — “Why did you give me the box at the train station?”

“I’d been undercover as a waiter at the resort for a few days. I arranged with Wilkerson to pass me a few samples, which he did when I brought his breakfast tray.” James stopped and gave an embarrassed shrug. “Unfortunately his guards noticed the exchange and they chased me. I was hoping to get to the train and hand the stuff off to the courier, but the guards were too close. That’s when I spotted you.” 

“And you told me to get on the train and give it to a guy in a blue shirt,” Mel said, nodding. Then she glared at him. “But the train was full of men in blue shirts for some sports team!”

“Sports team? But… Oh,” his eyes widened in realization. “No, the shirt was supposed to _ say _BLUE. Some acronym, no idea what it was for.” 

Mel stared at him. “How the hell was I supposed to know that?”

“I _ was _in a bit of a hurry. Those goons on my tail, remember? I had to get you on that train and get away from you before they spotted us together.”

_ Let it go, Mel,_ she told herself, because that let to the next item on the list. “Right — that’s what I don’t understand. I didn’t think those guys had spotted me, so how did they know to search my apartment?”

“I don’t know. I thought they were too busy chasing me.” James shrugged. “Maybe they had a lookout that saw you?”

“But that still doesn’t explain how —” Mel began, feeling a bit testy, until she noticed her roommate. “What is it?”

Marnie winced, looking a little guilty. “I think I know. It… may not have been you. Did you ever get the package I asked you to look out for?”

Package? Mel thought for a minute. So much had happened the last few days — Oh! “Yeah, hang on.” She got up and went to her coat. She’d stuffed it in a pocket the day before. Fishing it out, she went back to her seat, handing it to Marnie on the way.

“If this is what I think it is —” Marnie opened the envelop and pulled out some negatives. She looked up at everyone. “— it is. These are from a shoot a couple weeks ago. It was a… well, of a _ sensitive _nature, and I left the couple with the roll of film. But I asked them to send me any of the negatives that were, uh, safe. The guys who searched the place were looking for blackmail material.”

“So…This was all a coincidence?” Mel stared at her roommate. “If the apartment hadn’t been wrecked, I wouldn’t have thought to call Leiter. I’d still have those samples, and James would still be a prisoner!”

“I’d have gotten away by now,” James muttered sulkily.

“Of course you would have,” Alec confirmed, patting him on the knee. “And if not, I was going to come after you as soon as I wrapped up my assignment.”

“And you did call Felix,” Q said from the TV. “That’s what’s important, Mel.”

“So, Godwin, I’ve been impressed with how you’ve handled yourself, and I know Murphy here would like to see more of you —” he paused while Dan blushed “— how would you like to come work with us?”

What? Mel gaped at him. “I don’t —”

“Not as an agent,” Leiter hurried to explain. “But as a courier and free-lance assistant. Only when we need a hand, of course.”

She looked around at the watching faces. It would definitely be exciting, but was that what she wanted? She thought about her life. It was normally calm, predictable… Could she go back to that after her adventure? Of course she could. But.

She caught and held Dan’s eyes. “I’m in.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr - you can find me at leavesdancing.tumblr.com


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